


from blood and bone (to earth and sea)

by Atlanta_Black



Series: Merlin One-shots [9]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e10 Queen of Hearts, Gen, Minor Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), POV Morgana (Merlin), giving morgana the beginning of a redemption arc because fuck the bbc writers that's why, pendragon disaster siblings, saw that one gifset and made myself sad, so this is me making it better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29703837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlanta_Black/pseuds/Atlanta_Black
Summary: Every time Morgana believes she’s rid herself of affection for Gwen and Arthur, that same traitorous part of her heart roars back to life, threatening to strangle her with guilt.She was done with feeling guilty, this is what she had told herself, and yet Arthur is screaming at his father as if he would give the kingdom up now all for one serving girl. That is to say nothing of the look on Gwen’s face when she’d met Morgana’s eyes. The betrayal shining in her eyes had cut deeper than any knife ever could.She had said she was done with this. The throne washers, Uther corrupt, and she could not trust Arthur with it. She could not but—...“You won’t kill her,” she says calmly, voice ringing through the room. “You won’t banish her either.”
Relationships: Morgana & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin One-shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875181
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	from blood and bone (to earth and sea)

**Author's Note:**

> I have basically no memory of this episode!!! but i saw [this gifset](https://atlantablack.tumblr.com/post/643824499631996928/lefayart-i-dont-know-what-id-be-if-it-wasnt) on tumblr and haven't stopped thinking about Morgana and Arthur's relationship since and so i wrote this in a haze to make myself feel better. Please enjoy and don't roast me for any episode discrepancies

  


⚔

  
Every time Morgana believes she’s rid herself of affection for Gwen and Arthur, that same traitorous part of her heart roars back to life, threatening to strangle her with guilt. 

She was done with feeling guilty, this is what she had told herself, and yet Arthur is screaming at his father as if he would give the kingdom up now all for one serving girl. That is to say nothing of the look on Gwen’s face when she’d met Morgana’s eyes. The betrayal shining in her eyes had cut deeper than any knife ever could. 

She had said she was done with this. The throne was _hers_ , Uther corrupt, and she could not trust Arthur with it. She could not but—

Arthur is still screaming, Uther threatening to burn Gwen if he does not be quiet, and Arthur _is screaming so loudly_ that she wonders the castle doesn’t give out beneath them all. 

Her sister’s voice is screaming in the back of her mind, _do not do this, do not_ , but for just a moment Morgana sees the same little boy who had once hacked at a noble man’s ankles with a wooden sword all because he had made Morgana cry. She sees the same teenager who had crawled into her bed sobbing, snot dripping down his face as he _begged_ her to tell him that he was not a bad person. The same man who had snuck a druid child out of the castle despite all the odds. 

_You’re not your father, Arthur_ she hears her own voice say, the echo of a memory nearly forgotten and she’s stepping forward before she can stop herself. 

“You won’t kill her,” she says calmly, voice ringing through the room. “You won’t banish her either.” 

The hall goes still, all eyes turning to her, and Arthur finally falls quiet, hopeful eyes locked on her, nothing but trust in his expression when he looks at her. 

“And why is that?” Uther bites out slowly, clearly humoring her and mad about it. 

“Because, if you burn her for being a sorcerer then you’ll have to burn me as well.” She tilts her chin up and waits. 

It takes a long moment, Uther doing nothing but staring blankly at her for a very long moment, nothing on his face but a blank incomprehension that doesn’t seem to want to clear. Over Uther’s shoulder, she can see the exact moment that comprehension dawns on Arthur’s face and the panic that shoots across his face as he renews his struggles warms her heart, even as it sends questions cascading through her. _What would he have done if she had told him sooner? What would he have said? What would he have done? Would he have turned on Uther for her?_ He does not even yet know that they are siblings in blood as well as upbringing, and yet he stands loyal to her in a way few ever have. 

“Morgana,” Uther hisses out, furious and shaking. “Tell me that you are only being dramatic to save your maid. Tell me that you did _not_ do what you just implied.”

She laughs, tilting her head and quirking a smile at Arthur. “Tell you that I did not do _what_?” She mocks, letting every ounce of hate she’s suppressed for so many months shine through. “Tell you that I was not born with magic in veins and that it finally got tired of being suppressed? Tell you that I did not spend my year gone learning how many ways I could rid this city of you?” 

A knight charges her, a brave young boy who had only just become a knight when she’d returned to Camelot. She sighs, waving a hand and knocking him into a wall, hoping that he doesn’t truly die. It would be a pity to kill any of the knights when she’s sure they’ll turn their loyalty over to Arthur easily enough. 

If she is correct, it’s why none of the others have yet to charge her despite her treasonous words. Their uneasy glances between the king and his son contains all she needs to know about the divided loyalty of Camelot’s knights. 

“Being my ward will not save you from the pyre,” Uther finally says, gaze glancing wildly across the knights as he motions to her. Not one of them moves, and Arthur is still fighting against the guards holding him. The guards seem to wilt just a little bit with every moment that goes by. 

“No,” she agrees, strolling forward, but staying just out of sword reach. “I did think though that being your daughter might.”

Arthur chokes, the sound horribly loud in the silence of the hall. Arthur chokes and rips his way free of the guards, taking two long strides forward, and ripping the sword from Uther’s scabbard where he stands frozen and unresisting. 

Uther does not move, even when Arthur moves to Morgana’s side, sword held threateningly in front of him, chest heaving with emotion. 

“I’m sorry,” she laughs, ignoring the way Arthur flinches. “Did you think that I was asleep during that not so secret conversation with Gaius?” 

“She’s my sister?” Arthur chokes out furiously, the sword rising ever so slightly towards Uther’s chest. _“She’s my sister.”_ He repeats when Uther doesn’t reply, no question left in his voice. 

His hands are shaking, and when she glances at his face there’s a thunderstorm of grief and fury flashing over his face too fast to truly understand. 

“You lied,” he whispers, so quietly that only the three of them can hear. “You _promised_ that you loved my mother and you lied. You lied about it at all. About that, about magic, about everything.” 

And finally, hearing the word magic fall from his precious heir’s lips, Uther comes back to life, vitriol spewing from his lips. She does not bother listening to the lies falling from his mouth, instead taking in the knights and guards all frozen and tense, waiting to see how this all goes down. Waiting to see who they will be expected to serve after this. 

Half the company held by duty to an outdated king and half of them held in place by loyalty to a man who does not yet truly have the divine authority to lead. And there, in the doorway, one foot in and one foot out, stands Merlin staring at her with a conflicted, grief-stricken expression. He turns and disappears back into the hallway before she can do more than shoot him a glare. 

She does not get a chance to be distracted by the rage that Merlin’s face always ignites, instead immediately distracted by Arthur’s hand shooting out and punching Uther in the face, one foot coming out to knock the king’s out from under him. She doesn’t know if Uther truly didn’t expect Arthur to turn on him, or if he really is just out of practice, but regardless, he falls to his knees with a gasp, blood pouring from his nose. 

She nearly laughs at the betrayal on his face but swallows it down when she catches sight of the turmoil on Arthur’s. She may have magic, but between her magic, still not fully trained, and Arthur’s sword, she does not truly know which would win. It would not do to goad him into attacking her as well. 

He does not attack though, even when she knows she is doing a terrible job of suppressing her glee at the turn of events she’s been handed. He does not attack, only stares at her for a tense second before holding the handle of the sword out. 

She blinks at him, not understanding what he wishes her to do. 

“You are my sister,” he says lowly, and the words still sound as they’re being ripped from him, but there is no anger at her hiding in them. “You are my sister and he has done you a grave wrong by denying you the rights that come with that position. He has done your people a grave wrong. His judgement is for you to decide.”

The glee bleeds away all at once, leaving behind nothing but ice. “And what of after?” She demands, casting a glance at Uther who has not made a move to stand back up. “I kill the king and then what comes after?” 

“And then we talk,” he says, voice steady despite the grief in his eyes. “Then we talk, and lead, and decide where to go from here.” 

“You will not like what all I have to say.” She does not want to admit it, but the idea of losing Arthur when she is so close to having both her sister and brother at her side is nearly more than she can stomach. “You will not like all that I have done.”

“As I’m sure you do not like the many things I have done so far.” 

He meets her eyes evenly, sword still held between them, blue eyes clear and vast as the sea. They’ve always been polar opposites, the sea and the earth, always fighting for purchase as to who gets a claim of the land they both inhabit. 

She takes the sword. 

Uther does not raise his head when she places it at his chest, his shoulders merely sag, as if both of his children turning on him has finally broken him, and yet—

She knows this is a lie. Knows that even if she were to submit, even if Arthur were to submit, Uther would never change, not even for them. Especially not for them. She knows this is nothing but the facade of a man who believes he is about to die and her hands are steady but she finds them unwilling to press the sword any farther. 

Her hands are steady but her heart is not. 

“Uther Pendragon,” her voice rings through the hall, clear and unwavering. “As a High Priestesses of the old religion, in the name of all the people you have persecuted, my judgement…” she has to swallow, unsure as to what she is going to say until the words are fleeing her mouth. “…my judgement is that you are to be banished from this kingdom, all titles stripped of you. May others have more mercy on you than you had on them.” 

They have always been polar opposites, but the sea loves the earth, and the earth has never managed to fully leave the sea behind no matter how far away it goes. She would not break Arthur’s heart by murdering Uther in front of him, perhaps Morgause will call this a folly, but she feels the briefest press of his arm against hers and calls it nothing but penance for all that she will have to confess in the coming hours. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking the sword when she hands it back. 

“Thank me tomorrow,” she replies, hoping that this peace between them will last through the night. “Let us make it through the rest of this day, dear brother. And then you can thank me if you still wish to.” 

“I always knew you were annoying enough to be my sister,” he laughs, glancing at her with a grin, and his voice is still grief laden and exhausted, but there is so much affection lying on his face that she feels her heart stutter at the thought of all she nearly lost. 

Morgause was going to be furious, and there were many bridges here to mend and save, but the earth loves the sea, and the sea protects the earth, and this would be worth it in the end. 

Arthur’s name is shouted suddenly, and they both glance up to find Gwen standing in the doorway, Merlin two steps behind her. Gwen’s hands are pressed to her mouth and then she’s running towards Arthur who moves to meet her, picking her up and spinning her around, burying his face in her neck. 

Gwen meets her eyes over Arthur’s shoulder, a world of hurt still present in the curve of her brow, but she still holds out a hand for Morgana, mouthing _‘thank you’_ despite Morgana being the one to start this all.

Morgana swallows, pushing down the dream of Gwen wearing her crown, and stepping forward to take her friend’s hand. _‘I’m sorry,’_ she mouths back, and it’s not enough, not yet, but it is a start. 

All the greatest things have to start somewhere, she will let herself believe that they are starting here.   


⚔

  



End file.
